


Baby Must Be Good To You

by hariboo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellamy Is Such A Dude, F/F, F/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 21:14:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2040426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hariboo/pseuds/hariboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke has this <i>thing</i> when she gets into a painting. It’s kinda weird, mostly hot. Actually very hot, like insanely hot. He and Raven have lost hours of the day because of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Must Be Good To You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magisterequitum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/gifts).



> once again, this is Jordan's [prompt's](http://ladygawain.livejournal.com/83112.html?thread=894120#t894120) fault. It inspired two fics, really three, but come on this cannot be what I'm known for in this fandom. She also asked me about art student Clarke, so again, it turned into a loose interoperation of the prompts. I ended up making Bellamy such a fucking dude here, and maybe too funny, I'm sorry?
> 
> Title from Beyoncé's "Blow" ;)
> 
> BTW, writing threesome is fucking hard. [insert dirty joke] I haven't done it at this level since 09 and I have a feeling it's gonna show. Unbeta'd. Forgive any mistakes, I'll be sure to fix them as I find them.

Clarke has this _thing_ when she gets into a painting. It’s kinda weird, mostly hot. Actually very hot, like insanely hot. He and Raven have lost hours of the day because of it.

They don’t regret it.

Her thing is…

She sort of starts stripping. 

He and Raven wondered if she was doing it on purpose at first, but have come to realise it’s not a conscious thing. Clarke’s seduction techniques are amazing, but they’re not exactly always on purpose. For one those boobs are just genetic, but the paint stripping... It’s weird, but Clarke is kinda weird.

It’s not also happening _every time_ she paints. She’s not an exhibitionist, so it only happens when she’s at home, thank god, because Bellamy doesn’t need to get into anymore fights, and actually that goes the same for Raven. Once Raven punched a dude out because described the wrong engine model for a car, it was pretty hot. She and Clarke practically had sex in the backseat as he drove them home, because they are fucking evil like that sometimes.

They’ve just figured that Clarke feels comfortable enough at home to… strip all her dirty clothes off in accidentally alluring ways. It’s actually a good thing, considering Clarke.

And yeah, it’s only when she paints. When she draws she tends to stay fully clothed unless she already started drawing half naked, which she has, more than once. He’s woken up to Clarke climbing over him, those fucking breasts brushing over him, _torturing_ him, as she reaches for her closest sketchbook because she always going about when inspiration strikes or whatever. From his point of view inspiration tends to strike after multiple orgasms, so it’s a good thing she has him and Raven around.

Sometimes she lounges around the living room, barely dressed with her morning coffee, her fingers smudged with pastels, the colours transferring to her cheeks and hairline when she brushes her hair out of her face. It’s fucking cute and makes him want to smudge her up even more.

So it’s not like she’s going around naked each time she decides to draw or paint. He’s visited her in her and Lincoln’s shared studio. She’s always clothed-- okay, there was that one time she was working late, and she was wearing a pair of Raven’s shorts which are small on her and look painted on her on a good day, a thin tank top, paint streaks on her legs, and it’s not like he and Raven aren’t really known for their impulse control. 

They had a made a mess. 

Bellamy is still proud of the way Raven and Clarke cursed at him the rest of the night because of the places they had to wash paint off. Lincoln had eyed them the next time he saw them, but he and Bellamy have an understanding considering just who Lincoln is sleeping with so Lincoln can shut the hell up. He has a feeling Clarke probably fessed up and apologised for the mess anyway, she’s honest that way.

So it’s not like Clark does it on purpose. 

It just… happens. 

Kinda. 

Mostly when she’s really into a piece or really frustrated and get her clothes really dirty. It’s always a show and one Bellamy loves having front seats too. 

-

His head snaps up when Raven bounces back into the living room. She’s still sweaty, small strands of hair sticking to her temples and neck. She just came home about five minutes ago from her afternoon run to find him sitting on the sofa, going over his Roman History notes. She blew him a kiss and headed off to the bathroom. 

Clarke’s home too, she’s working in Octavia's old room which they’ve repurposed as a studio/study/room where Raven’s keeps random pieces of machinery. She's been there most of the day. She's got a project pending and she gets single-minded about these things. Raven and Bellamy have been told to keep out unless they’re bringing food. They’re not great at keeping to the rule but they try. If only because Clarke can really glare and denies sex when she’s mad at them.

Bellamy is about to ask if Raven wants company in the shower, her abs are literally glistening in front of him, (he’s a weak weak man), when she jerks her head back to the hall impatiently. 

"She's doing it again," is all Raven needs to say for Bellamy to set his laptop down. 

"Fuck, really?" He says, but he's already moving, following Raven down the short hall. "What did we miss?"

"Apparently just the jeans." Raven grins over her shoulder, slow and dirty, and he practically groans. Sometimes the jeans are the best part. 

"Which shirt she got on?"

"One of your old ones, long one."

Now Bellamy does groan, the image already getting him hard.

The door to the room is open, and seriously god bless Raven for decided to check in on Clarke. She in the far corner of the room, where the light hits best, her back turned towards them dressed in some old button down of his that she uses as smock sometimes and from what he can tell - hope, really - just her underwear. Her hair is up in a bun, there’s a semi clean brush holding it up, and she’s got her chunky neon green headphones on, which means that she can’t hear them and that she’s probably tucked her phone or mp3 player into her boobs. 

It’s another weird thing she does when painting and she’s stripped of anything with pockets. She tucks her music player into her boobs. It’s so strange and hot. Clarke’s got amazing tits. He’s a fan. 

He leans back against the wall near the door and grunts softly when Raven leans back against him, slipping an arm around her waist. She’s got sharp fucking elbows. 

“I love when she does this,” Raven murmurs, trying to keep quiet even though it doesn’t matter, those headphones are noise cancelling, but Bellamy gets it. They don’t want to interrupt, not yet. 

He nods, “I love when we catch her doing this.” 

“Hotter than porn.”

“Well,” he bends down to nip her ear, smiling when she hisses, “almost.” But he can’t deny there’s something so downright sensual about it. Maybe it’s because they know she’s not doing on purpose. Maybe it’s because they’re the only one that see her do it.

Raven chuckles warm and low, turns her head to kiss the edge of his mouth. “No, it’s hotter.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. 

Across from them Clarke’s humming and completely focused on her work, her arms moving in wide strokes over the large canvas she’s got propped up on the wall. Normally big work like this she works in her shared studio with Lincoln, but he’s got a fucking mural going or something. Clarke can be too nice sometimes, however, so she let him have the studio for their final projects. It’s annoying because the room always ends up smelling like turpentine and paint, which gives him a headache, but the benefits outweigh the drawbacks. Case in point.

Bellamy leans his chin on Raven’s head and watches as Clarke switches brushes, never turning back, swiping one hand over the shirt, leaving a trail of green on it as she picks leans down to pick up some… blue he thinks, he can’t tell. He’s not really looking at the paints.

He and Raven moan at the same time. It’s for different reasons, they have different what you would call Clarke Kinks. Raven has this totally sexy thing for Clarke’s hands (she’s obsessed with them, likes licking and sucking on Clarke’s fingers, especially after Clarke’s gone down on her). He feels her shift against him when Clarke wipes her hands on the shirt. Her nails dig into his arm. Bellamy, for his part, just can’t take his eyes of the hem of the shirt where he can barely glimpse the underwear Clarke’s got on. When she leans down to to grab the new paint and brush he sees a flash of neon pink before the shirt flutters back down. 

They really like when they catch her doing this. 

He’s sure Raven can feel how hard he is against her ass. 

He slides his hand down her bare stomach, slipping his fingers in just under the waistband of her running shorts. He doesn’t do much more than stroke the skin above her underwear softly, they’re in no rush. She moans quietly and rocks back against him.

They watch silently for a few minutes, letting Clarke work, watching as she pauses and bobs her head to the music and sometimes shakes her hips before going back to her work. It’s sexy in the weirdest way, he’s mentioned to Raven before, because Clarke isn’t really doing anything to seduce them. She’s just comfortable and trusts them to essentially strip herself (almost) bare. It’s weird, but comforting. It’s also kinda beautiful watching her work. It’s like when Raven’s eyes spark up when she get a new piece car to fix up. Her face lights up and her grin is fucking amazing as she rattles on about what she’s going to build. Clarke is similar. Her smile is softer, smaller, more private, but her eyes practically shine. It’s like she still can’t believe she can do this. 

Clarke, after all, wasn’t supposed to have dropped out of med school and shack up with mechanic and guy doing a Roman History masters, but she did. She worked her ass off for it and god what an ass it is. 

Bellamy snaps out his thoughts as he watches said ass as she bends down again. She’s humming, picking through her brushes and he watches as she sits back on her haunches and over balances. Raven snorts, pressing her face against his arm, because it’s a little funny, but then it stops being funny when Clarke curses and…

Clarke reached out to steady herself and caught the edge of her palette and canvas. “Shit,” they hear slip from her lips, as she rights herself. “Shit.”

Bellamy smirks, he can feel Raven’s grin against his arm. They might not be here watching as long as usual. 

Clarke drops the brushes in their jar and stands, grumbling, wiping her hand off on the shirt. Blue and red and orange handprints swipe over the material, accidentally smoothing and shifting it over her body; it’s a fucking sight. Raven outright moans. She presses back against Bellamy, her ass rocking against his hard on, and he dips his fingers into her. 

“You fucker,” she hisses, biting at his arm, making him smirk, but she also shifts a bit so he’s nestled right between her ass cheeks. In front of them, Clarke shrugs off the smock, wipes her hands on it, and tosses it chair that’s housing her jeans.

Bellamy wants to simultaneously curse and thank every god. Raven gasps, reaching down and pressing his fingers deeper in her. Bellamy bends and bites at her jaw. “Easy, now.”

In front of them, Clarke’s wearing her tiny neon pink brief things that just honestly should be outlawed on her ass, but she’s not as topless as he thought. She’s got a baggy tank top on and he can see the straps of her black bra. She still doesn’t turn back and she them, but sighs and looks at canvas, adjusting the headphones. Her hands go to her hips and they’re mostly clean, having been wiped on the shirt, but he can see that some smudges of colour stay on her top and a bit of skin. 

“Imagining her hands? You know she won’t use them on you. They’re all dirty, you know,” he starts circling his thumb over Raven’s clit, mouthing at her jaw, as she goes back to gripping his forearms. “All you got is my hands for now.”

“Bellamy,” Raven groans, rocking back against him, her hips following the rhythm of his fingers. Raven likes his hands too. She tilts her head up and he licks at her mouth, tugs at her bottom lip.

Clarke bounces her shoulders, catching their attention again, and Bellamy wonders if she’ll turn now. She doesn’t, wiggling her hips a bit to a beat they can’t hear. Raven chuckles brokenly, her breath catching, and he can’t help but smile. The baggy top doesn’t quite cover her ass and one strap slides off her shoulder, giving them a clearer look at her skin. If she wasn’t wearing a bra there’d be some major side boob showing. Bellamy sometimes hates bras.

Raven gasps as his fingers curls deep in her. She reaches up and fist a hand in his hair and hips canting up faster. She’s warm and wet and he can feel her breath coming in harder against his neck.

He hears her muttering “turn, turn” and wholeheartedly agrees. They have loose rules about sex when it’s just two of them, it happens, basically, but it’s best, it’s always best, when all three of them are there. That Clarke is here, just a few feet away, but unaware is equal parts hot and frustrating. She loves watching them, and well, Raven loves being watched. Bellamy is good either way; whatever the hell his girls want.

Unfortunately, Clarke has never been one do as others tell her and doesn’t turn. She seems to nod to herself and grabs a thick brush. He doesn’t see what colour she loads it up with as she bends back down to the edge of the painting to, he assumes, rework what got fucked up. Her top slides over her ass she sits, he can imagine how it pulls over her breasts. He bends down to Raven’s ear. 

“How long do you think until she notices us? Because I won’t let you get off until she does,” he says, pressing his thumb against her clit, hissing when he feels teeth against his collarbone. 

“You’re such an ass, Bell, don’t want you getting me off anyway,” Raven snaps back at him, but spreads her legs to give him room to insert another finger. He snorts and bites her ear. Her head falls back against his shoulder as he picks changes the rhythm of his fingers. It’s slower now, mostly teasing, easing Raven back down because Clarke hasn’t turned around yet. She’s pulling the brush that was holding her hair up and uses it. It doesn’t go back into her hair, but she rubs at the nape of her neck, rolling her head. When her hand comes away there’s a smudge of paint against her skin.

Bellamy smiles. His moves his other hand up Raven’s stomach and slips it under her sport bra, pushing the material up. Clarke’s humming again, twisting her hair away from her neck, and stands. She stretches, extending her arms high, going high on her toes, and it pulls the tank top all the way up to the small of her back. If he didn’t know better he’d say she’s teasing them on purpose, but she’s probably not even realised she’s no longer alone in the room. She reaches behind her and rubs at the small of her back and then--

He knows what’s going to happen the second before he does. He pumps his fingers in Raven a little faster, circle her clit, feeling her breath warm on his jaw, her teeth skimming his pulse point, and her hands join his other one on her breasts. He tilts his head down to bite at Raven’s mouth, soft and quick, and keeps his eyes on Clarke.

She’s reaching up into her cleavage, pulling her phone out from the looks of it, but more importantly she’s _turning_. He sees the exact moment she goes from being surprised they’re there to picking up on what’s happening in front of her. 

Her mouth opens and she makes a small surprised sound that borders on a moans. 

“Hey, Princess,” Bellamy smiles, still working his hand on Raven. 

She pulls her headphones off, her eyes trailing them up and down before settling where his hand has pushed Raven’s shorts more than half way down her thighs. “How long have you been standing there?” she asks, sounding dazed, licking her lips when Bellamy spreads Raven wide. Raven moans out Clarke’s name. It’s a breathy plea and Bellamy would feel insulted except it has Clarke shifting forward, tossing her phone on the chair and yes, that’s much better. 

“Long enough,” he says, watching as she steps closer, her eyes still on his hands.

“Yeah,” she breathes out, her cheeks flushing as he pulls another moan out of Raven, who arches under his hands and fuck he’s so hard now.

Clarke touches Raven first, cup her face and drags her paint stained fingers over Raven’s lips. Raven tries to lick them, but Clarke pulls away slowly. 

“They’re dirty,” Clarke says, low and soft, her eyes flitting up to Bellam when he laughs. 

“Told you so, Reyes.”

His smile then turns into a full out grin when Clarke drags her hands down Raven’s side and presses fully against her to lean up and kiss him quick before moving to back to Raven. Bellamy feels Raven’s hands let go where they’ve been clutching at him and wrap around Clarke. “Don’t care,” Raven moans, pulling Clarke in closer. Bellamy’s hands are sandwiched between their bodies and he feels when Clarke’s pelvis and breast press against Raven’s. 

Then they’re kissing, slow and easy, like they always like to. Clarke clutching at Raven’s face as she moans against her mouth. Bellamy slips his hand from Raven’s breast and moves it to grab at Clarke’s ass, pushing her closer to them, so close he can feel how warm she is when as he’s fingering Raven, scissoring his fingers, making her gasp into Clarke’s mouth.

Clarke’s hand have replaced his on Raven’s breast, her mouth is dragging down Raven’s neck and he bends, to follow the trail Clarke’s laid out. Clarke licks at his jaw when they bump he’s making him chuckle. This is why it’s the best when it’s the three of them. Raven is gasping louder between them. He can feel one of her hands snaking back and clutching at his thigh before she groans. 

“Clarke, mouth, give me your mouth,” 

Bellamy almost comes in his pants. 

He watches as Clarke pulls back and thumbs at Raven’s mouth. She curses sweetly and kisses Raven like she wants to drown in her. “Yeah, yeah.” She rocks back and meets Bellamy’s eyes. “Hold her up and don’t stop.” She won’t use her own fingers, like he said, but this is not the first time they’ve done this. She grips Raven’s thighs, pulls one over her shoulder. Her hands are mostly clean, save the remaining smudged and stains, so he watches and smiles when some paint she missed on her wrist transfers against Raven’s skin. 

Bellamy nods, “Get on with it princess.”

She laughs and he feels Raven elbow him. He’s about to make another comment but then feels a tongue by his fingers and it literally takes everything in him not come. Clarke’s tongue is slipping between his fingers, licking them and Raven at the same time, and he can feel Raven clench around them. 

“God damn, Clarke,” Raven exclaims, hitching her hips up. Her hands leave Bellamy’s body and he watches as they twist in Clarke’s hair. He can feel Clarke’s moan against his hand and then she’s pulling his fingers away, licking them messily. She moves his hand to Raven’s thigh and he gets the silent command, gripping it, opening Raven further for her. Murmuring her thanks, she moves back between Raven’s legs and licks into her. With his other hand he cups Raven’s breast, stroking and pinching her nipples as Clarke goes down on her. 

Bellamy holds her body against his, between his and Clarke’s, as she rides Clarke’s mouth and tenses. 

Raven, for as loud as she is, she tends to come silently. Her breath catching as her orgasm hits her and then she sags back, body vibrating. In Clarke’s hair her hands fist before she relaxes them and lets Clarke move back. 

Clarke rocks back on her heels, looking up at the both of them. Her mouth is wet and swollen, her tank top has fallen off one shoulder and he can see straight down her cleavage. Raven sighs, letting her body sink back into his hold. He lowers her leg from his hold over Clarke’s shoulder. Then she’s moving, pulling her sports bra off where it’s bunched under her armpits, and goes to drape herself over Clarke.

Laughing, Clarke catches her, pulling her down.

He watches as Raven pushes Clarke against the floor, kissing her like there’s nothing else she rather do. He hears their murmurs and soft laughter and _you’re so fucking hot i love you_. He watches as Clarke’s legs wrap around Raven’s waist and he can guess from the gasp he hears that Raven’s hands are dealing with Clarke’s underwear. He smiles. He also thumbs at his jeans, pulling them down and off, and stroking himself, because he knows them and they might be there a while, ignoring him. The shits. He loves them, but they are notorious shits getting each other off first, saving him for last.

“Hey, you done there?” Clarke’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he glances down at them. They’re separated for the moment and are looking up at him, lazy lust in their eyes. Raven’s good for now, but he’s aching, and he knows how turned on going down on either of them makes Clarke.

He grins, “Fuck you, princess.”

“Promises, promises.” Raven says, kissing Clarke’s cheeks.

Both girls laugh, and then they’re standing, grabbing at him, kissing him, kissing each other and tugging him to the corner of the room where they drop on Raven’s ridiculous bean bag. He fucking hates it but they don’t really have couch in the room. Raven sits back and pulls him down between her legs, which lets him know they’ve figured out how this going to go. He’s already hard enough that he fears he might not last long so whatever they want he’s fine with. He lets Raven manhandle him, pulling him to her chest, letting her perfect legs bracket his thighs. He can set the smudges of Clarke’s fingers on her left thigh. She reaches around him, her breast pushing against his back, and begins stroking his cock softly, lazy. She bites at his ear. 

“Don’t come until she does.”

He narrows his eyes at her, but yeah, okay. 

Together, like before, they watch as Clarke finishes her stripping. She never disappoints. Her underwear gets tossed over her shoulder and so does her tank top. Straddling Bellamy’s thighs, Clarke laughs when two sets of hand reach to unsnap her bra. Raven flings it away. Bellamy’s hands move to cup Clarke’s breast, pulling her closer to his chest. Her hands curve over his shoulder, and he feels one move behind him to touch Raven. He wonders if there’s enough paint on her hands to transfer over to them. 

Behind him, he can hear the clack of Raven’s teeth, probably trying to nip at Clarke’s fingers. Her hands smell like paint, and they’re still smudged with colour. Bellamy reaches up and grabs one and the corner of her palm where there’s no paint and licks it. He likes how it looks when she forgets and dirties them with it, but he’s not dumb, it also tastes disgusting. 

“Seriously, you guys, don’t lick the paint, you’ll get sick,” she says, but her smile is wide. She pulls her hands back, curling them on her hips. There’s a mock stern look on her face; this is not the first time she’s warned them. 

Bellamy shrugs, and tugs her closer. “It’d be worth it.” He says, mostly because it makes her smile, but it would be.

From behind him, Raven’s arms moves against his side and brush Clarke’s hips. She moves hand down Clarke’s body and the other fists him. 

“You two talk too much.”

He groans. Clarke’s hips hitch up and he looks down between their bodies. Raven’s got them both in hand, right where she wants them, and she leans forward to bite at Clarke’s jaw, her hair falling against Bellamy’s face. 

“Come on, Clarke, ride him.”

Clarke gasps, pressing closer to him. Bellamy looks down. Raven’s got her fingers circling her clit just how Clarke likes. 

“No condom,” Clarke moans, but she and Bellamy are already shifting. Raven’s got him ready, her fingers stroking him harder. Bellamy leans down and sucks at Clarke’s tits because he needs to do something and Raven’s right they do fucking talk too much. Clarke’s hands move to fist at the nape of his neck and shoulder. He watches as she shifts forward, Raven’s still stroking him, positioning him for Clarke. 

“I’ll lick him off your stomach,” Raven says, and fuck it’s a goddamn miracle Bellamy doesn’t come right there, or the second after when Clarke starts sliding down on him. He feels Raven’s hand slip away as Clarke takes him. She presses herself against him, her breasts plastered against his chest. Her mouth is by his ear, and he can feel her breath hot against it. He can feel when Raven leans and kisses her. 

He waits a few seconds, letting her settle on his lap, and then thrusts up. Clarke’s breath catches. She’s always so loud, and just gets louder. She clutches his shoulder as she rides him, tugging his face up to kiss, because the only way she’s even somewhat quiet is when she’s kissing someone. He licks into her mouth and sucks on her tongue, and it’s wet and dirty, and just how he likes it, but he likes listening to her more and drags his mouth away. 

Her mouth doesn’t stay lonely for long, however. He feels Raven press tighter against him, one arm wrapping around him like he’d done to her earlier, her free hand slipping two fingers into Clarke’s mouth. Bellamy slides down on the bean bag -- fucking hates it -- fucks up into Clarke , letting her ride him, her hips snapping against him fast and hard. He leans up suck at her nipples, cursing as she clenches around him. 

He was right, he’s not going to last long. 

Clarke’s hand twist in his hair hard enough he looks up from her breast just in time to catches Raven pulling Clarke’s mouth to hers, hand framing her face. He’s close enough to see their tongues slipping into each other’s mouth. They’re always fucking kissing, it’s his favourite thing in the world.

And it’s gotta be uncomfortable for Raven, who’s now kneeling off to his side, almost on the floor, but she doesn’t seem to mind, so he focuses on getting Clarke to come apart. 

“Come on, princess,” he grunts, hauling her closer with one arm, and slipping a hand between them. 

“Shit, shit, Bellamy, Raven,” Clarke says, hands scrambling over his arms and shoulders. Bellamy leans back to watch her body bow back. Raven’s shifted more to the side and she got one hand cupped around Clarke’s neck, the other is wrapped around Clarke’s back, like she’s ready to haul her up and away from Bellamy the minute she comes.

Clarke comes loud and hard, as usual, and yes, there’s Raven pulling her against her chest as Bellamy slides out. He’s so hard and almost fucking there. He hates the fucking bean bag, it’s annoying as fuck to move on it, but he turns and strokes himself hard and coming over Clarke’s stomach like Raven said. 

He falls back on the bean bag, breathing hard, and slides his eyes to where Raven is moving around them grinning down at Clarke’s stomach. She catches his eyes and then does exactly what she said he would, then leans down and sucks at Clarke’s clit. Bellamy curses and would come again if he could. Clarke, from the way she gasps and how her hand reaches out to grip his shoulders, actually does. Girls are so fucking lucky, he thinks. Multiple fucking orsgams. 

Raven leans back, looking smug as shit.

Clarke bats at Raven’s shoulders weakly. She’s a fucking puddle after she comes. Pretty much useless after he comes twice. Raven’s a live wire. Bellamy is just fucking exhausted. He tugs Clarke to his side, letting her curl up against, and tugs on Raven’s hair. She grins, wide, teeth flashing and bends down for a kiss. She taste like him, like Clarke, it’s hot. She bites at his chin. Bellamy pinches hers between his fingers and smacks a kiss on mouth, tapping her ass gently. Raven chuckles and moves up -- live fucking wire -- and grabs the closest item of clothing and comes back to wipe Clarke's stomach down. She then settles right on top of Bellamy. 

It’s a fucking bean bag not their king sized bed and kisses him again. 

This time it’s slower, sweeter. Clarke mumbles something about “ugh sexy” against his chest, sounding mostly asleep. She’ll nap for a while and get back to work, she always does, but until then she’s basically a sleeping kitten. They both look down at her, grinning at each other. 

“The sexiest,” Raven whispers, leaning over to kiss Clarke’s nose. She scrunches it up making Raven’s eyes go all soft.

Bellamy rolls his eyes, Raven’s such a secret softie, but strokes his hand down Clarke’s arm as she snuggles in. Maybe he is too. 

-

“Gonna draw you two later,” Clarke mumbles a little while later, voice low and husky. “Just like that. Starry background. Don’t move.” She’s not lying either. There are more than a few paintings of them she’s done. She hardly ever includes herself in them. It’s something Bellamy wonders about that, but she’s got a sketchbook dedicated to them that one else sees but the three of them. She draws herself in that more. He wonders about that too. Raven tells him he worries too much when he mentions it to her. It’s not like everyone doesn’t know the three of them are together and fuck, he’s too fucked out for these thoughts. 

Raven just grins, winking at him. “Just let us know.”

Bellamy closes his eyes, “Always happy to inspire, princess.”

Clarke snorts, it’s incredibly unattractive, (also cute as shit), and smacks his chest. Raven reaches and thread her and Clarke’s fingers together. Bellamy closes his eyes, his back will kill him for napping on the beanbag later, but it was worth it. Clarke and Raven always are, weird habits and all. Don’t get him started on Raven and her hot sauce addiction, that shit burned.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] Baby Must Be Good to You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3655410) by [growlery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/growlery/pseuds/growlery)




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